My Faith Poem by DM W

The faith that forms poetry through me prevails.
I imbibe the scent of incense in the haze
Of sacred yesterdays.
Bold metaphors of gold, now purged of guilt, still
Flow through my Catholic veins like vital blood.

The pulsing Love that drives the moon and stars
Blesses the angels' prolonged lamentations
In the dreadful night.
Although Time's cruel abyss mocks Creation,
Profound symbols won't dissolve into mere signs.

The force that engenders warm communion,
And its pure pools of silent wisdom,
Will transcend tawdry, virtual worlds
Of tainted information;
Which dazzle our eyes, but do not enlighten.

It is often a mechanised existence.
And life seems to get caught in the rusted cogs
Of acedia.
Yet I'm drawn to weary, old prophets who
Transmogrify into winged, modern artists.

And the greater light will seep through the cracks
In our elaborate, yet brittle designs.